The Yankee Dodge (Shifted Canon)
At dawn, Jack Dawkins woke with a familiar weight on his conscience—not guilt, never guilt—but preparation.
The system pulsed somewhere deep inside him, hidden and silent.
No one knew of it.
No one would.
If anyone ever asked, he'd simply say:
"I trained with healers from distant lands—small tribes and forgotten kingdoms.
Traders taught me techniques you English couldn't dream of."
A perfect lie.
Plausible.
Exotic.
Untouchable.
He dressed quickly, sliding:
a small concealed pistol into his coat's inner pocket
a hidden blade strapped along his wrist
spare scalpels tucked inside his boot
Just in case.
Breakfast and Poker — Canon Begins
The moment he stepped out onto the street, Jack felt it:
The air changed.
The canon began.
He walked to the tavern for breakfast, as the series starts, then immediately found himself dragged into the morning poker game.
But this time the timeline was different.
Jack wasn't the desperate, thin ex-thief he once was.
He was sharper.
Calmer.
Far more dangerous.
He played carefully.
Read every face.
Watched the tremble of cards, the twitch of eyelids.
When the final pot settled, he collected £26.
Darius slammed his fist on the table.
"You CHEATED, Dawkins!"
Jack leaned back with an easy grin.
"Funny—everyone always says that. Maybe you're just unlucky."
Darius stepped closer, voice low and venomous.
"I'll find you. I'll CUT your bloody hand off."
Jack's smile didn't move.
"Then choose your coffin. And your funeral clothes."
Darius froze.
Jack put his cards down gently.
"I have no interest in chasing you. But if you come for me… I will finish it."
The table went silent.
This was not the weak, hungry boy they expected.
This Jack had teeth.
The Hospital — Mine Injuries Arrive
Back at the hospital, Hetty sprinted into the corridor with panic.
"Jack! Two miners—they're half-dead!"
Jack threw on his apron and rushed in.
And there stood Dr. Rainsford Sneed, arms folded smugly.
"Well, Dawkins," Sneed sneered.
"This is perfect timing. Let's settle our bet."
Jack cracked his knuckles.
"Try to keep up."
Amputation Contest — Jack's Brutal Victory
The staff gathered around.
The miners howled in pain.
Sneed prepared his tools, overly dramatic, showing off.
Jack simply washed his hands and breathed—slow, deep, controlled.
Sun Breathing (suppressed but subtly used).
Muscle memory honed by impossible surgeries.
"Ready?" Sneed announced.
Hetty raised her hand.
"Begin."
Jack moved faster than anyone saw.
One stroke.
One cut.
Clean.
Precise.
Sneed was still fumbling with clamps when—
"DONE," Jack said calmly.
Hetty stared at the stopwatch:
22 seconds.
Sneed dropped his tools, mouth hanging open.
People whispered.
"Did you see—?"
"How—?"
"Not human—"
Jack simply removed his gloves.
"I expect an apology by the end of the day."
He walked away before anyone could speak.
The Uncle — Failed Threats
As Jack exited the ward, a familiar rasping voice cut through the crowd.
"Jack."
His uncle.
Oliver.
Manipulator.
User.
Coward.
Recently informed Jack was being released from the penal system.
Oliver hissed:
"You listen, boy. I'll tell the soldiers who you REALLY are. Your record's not clean—"
Jack smirked.
"It is now."
Oliver blinked.
"What?"
"I appealed. A private judge reviewed the case. Faulty imprisonment.
My record is clean."
Oliver stepped back as if slapped.
"But— they'll treat you differently—"
"They already do."
Jack's voice iced over.
"And I don't care."
Oliver swallowed.
"Fine. Fine! Then you'll be my servant. Work, and maybe I'll keep quiet."
Jack shrugged.
"As long as you remember—I don't trust you. At all."
And that was the end of the argument.
The canon shifted quietly around them.
Treating Peggy Gaines — Blackmail Begins
Later that week, Jack walked into Captain Gaines' home.
Peggy lay on the couch, moaning dramatically about her "fainting spells."
Jack inspected her, careful and quiet.
He knew everything.
Her affairs
Her lying
Her manipulation
Her involvement with Darius
Her drinking
And the secrets she kept from her husband
Jack cleared his throat.
"Mrs. Gaines, I can treat you.
But I require… discretion."
Peggy's eyes widened.
"You want money?"
Jack's smile was razor sharp.
"No. Not money."
Peggy swallowed hard.
"You're blackmailing me."
"No," Jack corrected softly.
"I'm ensuring your cooperation."
And that was worse.
Belle Fox — The Revelation
That night, Jack walked through the alley behind the hospital—
And Belle Fox stepped out from the shadows.
Smart.
Silent.
Deadly beautiful.
Her eyes locked on his.
"Jack Dawkins."
Jack inhaled sharply.
"Miss Fox. What brings you here?"
Her steps were slow, deliberate.
"I finally figured it out."
"Figured what out?"
Her gaze sharpened.
"The Doctor."
Jack's blood froze.
Belle continued:
"When I met the Doctor, his salves and oils had a particular smell.
Mint. Resin. Something foreign."
She stepped closer.
"When I passed you in the corridor today—
you smelled the same."
Jack's mask of calm cracked.
"Belle—"
She finished quietly:
"You're the Doctor."
The alley fell silent.
Jack stared at her with a thousand calculations racing in his mind.
Belle Fox had discovered the one truth he never wanted exposed.
The Truth Under the Lantern Light
The surgery room still smelled of blood and hot iron.
Jack had just saved the boy's life—cutting, sewing, clamping, moving with inhuman accuracy that left the crowd speechless. His motions were too fast, too precise, the kind no surgeon of this century should ever possess.
Belle Fox had watched every second of it.
Her eyes followed him even as the applause began, even as the grateful family cried, even as the nurses whispered in awe.
But Jack wasn't paying attention to them.
His uncle—Oliver—was.
The greedy old snake slipped behind the crowd and snatched the fallen necklace from the floor. The one the boy had dropped earlier. The one Belle had been searching for.
And as Oliver tried to quietly pocket it—
Belle moved like lightning.
She stepped behind Jack, grabbed his sleeve, and leaned close enough to whisper:
"Your uncle has it."
Jack didn't even blink.
He simply turned, walked straight toward Oliver, and as the crowd parted—
Oliver froze.
"J–Jack—"
"That belongs to her."
Jack held out his hand.
Oliver placed the necklace into Jack's palm instantly, shaking like a child caught stealing bread. Jack didn't even bother glaring at him. He simply turned back and handed it to Belle with a graceful, almost mocking bow.
Belle nodded, expression unreadable.
But her eyes said:
We're going to talk.
And they did.
Later — Belle's Room
Belle Fox led him to her quarters, shutting the door behind them with a soft click. The room was lit only by two lanterns, casting golden shadows along the walls.
"So," Belle began, folding her arms, "I watched you today."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Many people did."
"No," she snapped lightly, "I watched you. Closely."
Silence hung between them.
"You moved like no surgeon I've ever seen," she said. "Not in England, not here. Your cuts were too clean. Too fast. You knew exactly where the blood would flow before it happened."
Jack's jaw tightened. He didn't answer.
Belle stepped closer.
"And when I visited the Doctor weeks ago… he used a salve with a distinct scent. Mint. Resin. Foreign herbs."
Her eyes locked onto his.
"You smelled the same when I stood beside you today."
Jack exhaled slowly.
She had him.
She knew.
Belle whispered:
"You're him.
You're the Doctor."
Jack didn't deny it.
Instead, he walked toward the window, looked out at the dark streets, and said:
"What do you want, Belle?"
Belle's Request
She hesitated.
Then:
"Train me."
Jack turned sharply. "What?"
"I want you to teach me surgery," she said, voice firm. "Real surgery. The kind you know—whatever it is. The way you move, the way you see things… you're beyond anything the doctors here can do."
Jack stared at her, expression unreadable.
Belle continued:
"I've treated wounds, helped in procedures, but I'm not satisfied being an assistant or a nurse. I want to save people. I want to know what you know."
She stepped closer, almost daring him.
"Teach me."
Jack's first instinct was to refuse.
He trusted nearly no one.
He especially didn't trust nobles.
And Belle was far too sharp… far too observant… far too dangerous.
"Why?" he finally asked.
Belle frowned. "Because this colony is dying, Jack. People need surgeons who can do what you did today. I want to help."
"That's not the real reason," Jack said quietly.
Belle hesitated.
Then:
"…because I need to be strong. Strong enough to protect myself. Strong enough to not rely on this corrupt hospital or the idiots who run it."
Her voice lowered.
"And because I think you're the only one who can teach me."
Jack leaned back against her desk, studying her intensely.
His Transparent World flickered to life—just a moment, just a ghost—showing her pulse rapid with adrenaline but her eyes steady, honesty blending with ambition.
Belle Fox was dangerous.
Clever.
Determined.
Not afraid of him.
Very few people looked Jack Dawkins in the eyes without fear.
He respected that.
But he also knew the risk.
Every secret he shared made her more powerful.
And power always had consequences.
The Questions Belle Had Been Holding Back
Belle stepped even closer.
"I need to know something, Jack."
Her voice softened, curious… unnervingly curious.
"How did you learn everything you know?"
Jack didn't move.
"How do you move that fast?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"How did you know exactly where to cut? Where the bleeding would be? Where the artery was hiding?"
She took a breath.
"And how can you amputate a man's limb in twenty-two seconds? No human should be able to do that."
Jack stayed perfectly still.
Belle's voice turned quiet, searching:
"What are you, Jack Dawkins?"
Jack's Decision
He stepped toward her, closing the distance until he was only inches away.
"I'm a surgeon," he said simply.
"One who learned from places you'll never reach. And one who survived things you'll never understand."
Belle held his gaze.
"And if I train you," Jack continued, "you will be bound by rules. My rules. The same rules the underworld follows when they come to my clinic."
She didn't flinch.
"I accept."
Jack studied her for a long, silent moment.
Then:
"Fine."
Her eyes widened.
"I'll teach you."
Belle exhaled sharply—relief mixed with triumph.
"But Belle," Jack added, voice low and dark, "if you ever betray my secrets…"
Belle swallowed.
Jack finished:
"I will disappear—and you will never find me again."
Belle nodded.
"I won't betray you."
Jack finally allowed a faint, dangerous smile.
"We'll see."